Inside the NBA's New Style Wars

This kind of style smack is constant in the Miami locker room, says veteran swingman Shane Battier—so constant that "it's when they stop talking about you that you know you're in trouble." Battier, who limits his own aspirations to "suburban-dad hot" (tailored button-ups under V-neck sweaters with jeans), says that the pressure on Miami's Big Three to dress well every day can be too much for even the most tasteful global icon. "LeBron falters occasionally," Battier declares. "And when he does, we let him know about it."

Bosh, who also works with Rachel Johnson, tells me that while he and Bron "like to be stylish and comfortable," he thinks Wade is more willing to suffer for fashion. Wade agrees. "I take more risks, knowing there are going to be jokes," he says. "Chris doesn't take many risks—he dresses very nice, but he keeps it simple."

Perhaps Wade's most famous risk to date is the pink-chocolate-yellow patent leather Louboutins he wore to the White House on January 28 for the Heat's traditional congrats-on-that-NBA-title photo op with President Obama. Wade admits he was nervous about wearing the sneakers on such an official state visit and had to be nudged by his stylist, Calyann Barnett (who, incidentally, is Rachel Johnson's former assistant).

"I'm always more nervous than her, because I'm the one who has to put this stuff on," he says. "This is my second time going to the White House as a champion. This time I decided on the gray suit. I knew everybody was going to go with something dark, so I wanted to do something different. And I had the gray-white-and-black shoes out that went with the suit, and then there was [the pink pair]. So we sat and thought about it: ‘Okay, I can go with the gray-white-and-black ones, but that's typical, and I don't do typical all the time, so let's do something a little different.' And it worked!"

At the ceremony in the East Room—and apologies in advance for the logrolling, especially since military-industrial-fashion-plex logrolling is the worst kind, but I have to do it, if only for the benefit of the archivists—Obama said the following: "We saw Dwyane Wade, the heart and soul of this team, continue to do whatever it takes to win, including leading the team in blocks, and at the postgame press conferences he dressed well enough to land himself in GQ magazine." The president then turned away from the podium and, in a scene reminiscent of Lyndon Johnson's CGI'd bemusement with Forrest Gump's bare ass, called out, "Show 'em your kicks here, Dwyane." Satisfied, Obama turned back to the crowd. "If any of you can pull this off other than Dwyane Wade, let me know."

"Fashion is fun to me," Wade tells me later. "I feel like the way that I dress says a lot about my personality. A lot of people will not get a chance to talk to me, but when they look at me, they can get an idea of who Dwyane Wade is."

While the Heat are in D.C. hanging with the president, I pay a visit to Johnson's Harlem office, where she shows me her "inspiration board." On the wall behind her desk is a black pinboard with a collage of looks from fashion magazines cut and pasted underneath each one of her famous clients. It all feels so imperial—courtiers of the court! Can you imagine Magic or Larry ever having an inspiration board? But Johnson has a specific trajectory in mind for LeBron and Bosh for the second half of the season. She wants to continue putting distance between them and the preppy look that David Stern affectionately refers to as "nerdwear." Wade and Barnett, meanwhile, have their own plan for the spring: draining the color from Wade's look and focusing on texture and silhouette, partly to showcase Wade's "maturity" and partly as a cross-promotion for the Chinese shoe company Wade promotes, Li-Ning, whose spring line is the Black Collection.

When I reconnect with the Heat in Brooklyn two nights after their White House trip, it's the team's first-ever visit to the Barclays Center, two weeks before the All-Star break. Wade steps off the bus wearing a beaver-fur bomber hat—his teammates are calling him "the Black Russian"—and a dark green motorcycle jacket by the young British designer Adrien Sauvage. Wade is not quite in Westbrook territory—he loves clothes but hates to shop. "My stylist has done an unbelievable job of opening my mind," he says. "Without her I would be behind the curve. She helps me be in the now and in the future."

After the game, a blowout win for the Heat, the visitors locker room is predictably jam-packed. There's a GQ photographer in here, and plans for a show-offy shot are being hatched, but D-Wade has to shout across the locker room at LeBron to be heard over this din: "HEY, WE GONNA DO THIS PICTURE?" LeBron looks confused amid all the commotion. He shouts back, "I DUNNO. YOU GONNA DO IT?"

They decide to do something unusual: They walk out together, sharing the runway, LeBron wearing an entirely different outfit from the one he wore coming into the arena. It's dressier. This time it's an A.P.C. peacoat over a crisp white shirt and tie. He has a black watchman's cap tilted on his head. Wade is still rocking the Black Russian.

The two of them are flanked by security guards who are mean-mugging through the phalanx of lingerers in the Barclays loading dock. LeBron and Wade get caught in an eddy against a wall, where they smile and say hello to a pair of female fans. The photographer is told to stop shooting, because nobody wants this to look weird. But we're running out of catwalk. Finally, the girls leave.